It is not like that anymore. We no longer have great teams, no more dynasties. I miss both.
Last I checked, I have written more than 6,000 stories for the Daily News. A few stand out for me. One of them was written as the 2003-04 season was starting. A month before, I had the great fortune of spending an hour in the Encino, Calif., condominium of John Wooden.
He didn't know me, but, after about 5 minutes, I felt like I knew him. He was that gracious, that genuine and that interested in my questions. His memory of long-ago events was infallible. His explanation of why he coached the way he did was brilliant. His insights about the game from the 1950s to the 2000s were spot on.
His body may have already been failing, but his mind was as sharp as ever. I was struck by the humility and the wisdom, two attributes that are in short supply in today's me-first society.
When the coach passed away last June, the memories of that hour and those UCLA teams came flooding back. If you ever get a chance, watch some tapes of UCLA circa 1964-1975. You will be struck by the finesse of the game. You will also notice that nobody dribbles. It is passing, cutting, open shots, pressure team defense, fastbreaks off turnovers, the game as it once was, the most beautiful sport ever conceived.
The game changed. The people in it changed. John Wooden evolved, but his essence never changed. And I won't ever forget the lessons I learned in that hour in the condo John and Nell Wooden took when the coach retired in 1975 after the 10th and final championship.
SOMETHING WAS UP
Not sure how to explain this, but did you see that final basket at Pauley Pavilion Saturday, the last hoop before Pauley closes for a season while it undergoes a major remodel. It was scored by walk-on Tyler Trapani, the great grandson of John Wooden.
THE PREDICTIONS
